Star Fox: United
by Greg Miller
Summary: A member of Star Fox has died. Now see how the team comes together to form Star Fox as we know it today. This story explains how Falco joined the team, how Star Fox earned its Arwings, and what exactly happened during the Battle of Corneria. Please review
1. Chapter 1: Reflections

Chapter 1: Reflections

_Flying is life, son. When you've got your wings and your wingmates, you don't need anything else. You depend on them, they depend on you. And you finally feel like you belong somewhere._

-Captain James McCloud to his son, Fox, Corneria, 10 years before the Lylat Wars.

**Corneria City, Corneria**

Fox McCloud slouched over his drink, inhaling the fumes to block out the various stenches of other species gathered in the bar. He sat in the corner, draped in shadows. It was a good place to sit for someone who wanted to be left alone.

He stared at the glowing red mixture before him, not really seeing. The color was unsettling; it reminded him of Titania. For the last week, everything had reminded him of Titania.

He could see the motion-blurred red ground below his Solar-class Firesplash starfighter. He could feel his ship being rocked by the strong dust storms. And he could still hear the screams of his dying friend.

It had been such a simple job. _So simple_. He and the rest of his mercenary squadron, Star Fox, had been hired to ward off unwanted attention from a convoy of _Titania Elements Inc._ bulk carriers.

The mission had gone smoothly until they came out of the canyon. Then in an instant they were surrounded by screaming black fighters. Each fighter had borne the mark of Emperor Andross. No surprise there. The surprise came in the sheer quantity of fighters sent to overtake the convoy. There were no less than thirty.

Fox's memory blurred.

Fox had destroyed his sixth target when he heard the plea for help coming from one of his squadmates over the comm system. He looked starboard, and through the angry swarm of enemy fighters he watched Matthew Hound, his good friend for ten years, perish in a ball of flame.

That's when his memory went blank.

The rest of his then three-man squadron had somehow chased off the remaining enemy fighters. One of the bulk carriers had been shot down but remained in one piece; the raw material within was easily salvageable. Star Fox had successfully escorted the convoy to the rendezvous, received their pay, and left the planet for Corneria. It'd been a silent ride home.

Fox drained the burning red liquid, hoping that somehow doing so would dash the memory from his mind forever.

He'd gone through the flight academy with Matt and had flown with the hound for years. When Peppy Hare had returned from Star Fox's mission to the poisonous planet Venom five years ago and delivered the news that James McCloud was gone, Matt had been there to share Fox's grief at the loss of his father. Days later, Peppy recruited Fox and Matt to be the new replacements for the mercenary squadron. And now, after all that they'd been through, Matt was gone. In an instant. Forever.

This never happened to Star Fox, not since the day James McCloud had been betrayed by Pigma Dengar, a heartless mercenary who would shoot his own friends for a week's pay. No one died on Fox's watch, not until now. He had failed his squad but worse, he'd failed his friend. The very thought of it made him want to blast something.

"So this is what you've come to, Fox? Drinking booze in a low-life place like this?"

Fox's eyes began to focus and he found himself staring at a little less than two meters of gray fur and sharp teeth. He knew who the figure was before his eyes completely returned to focus; the cocky, menacing growl of a voice gave it away.

"And yet I'm still the better pilot, Wolf."

Wolf O'Donnell allowed himself a toothy grin. "Witless as usual, I see." He sat across the booth from Fox. "Any good business lately?"

Fox narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What do you want?"

"I'm just trying to be friendly. What, I'm not allowed to catch up with old friends anymore?"

At the mention of "old friends," Matthew Hound flashed across Fox's mind again, followed by that terrible flare of flame and debris.

When Fox returned to consciousness, he realized that he was leaning halfway across the table with a fistful of Wolf's flight suit in his hand. Slowly he released his grip and sat back.

"We lost a squadmate on Titania," he said, a lump rising in his throat.

"Tragic."

A female tiger approached the booth, datapad in hand. "Can I get you something to drink?" she asked Wolf.

"Cornerian Ale, please."

"It's on the house, Wolfy," she purred and retreated to the back room.

"I see I'm not the only one who comes here," said Fox.

"I meet customers here in between assignments. I don't brood over my past and get drunk."

"I'm not drunk yet. I can still aim my blaster just fine, and it's pointed right at you."

"I have too many friends here. You'd never make it out alive."

"I might be willing to test that theory."

The tension was thick enough to suffocate anyone near the corner booth. Fox stared straight into Wolf's yellow eye; Wolf still wore a patch over his left eye, a souvenir given to him in a past encounter with Star Fox. The patch made him look even more sinister than he used to, a perfect indicator of the pirate that he truly was.

Suddenly someone screamed across the bar. Instinctively, Fox and Wolf both turned their heads to see what the ruckus was about.

A blue falcon had his left arm wrapped around the throat of a lizard; he jammed a blaster into the victim's temple with the other. In a blur of motion, he swung his prey around and slammed the man backwards onto a tabletop. The lizard yelped in pain and struggled against the unbreakable grip of the falcon.

Fox was not interested in the possibility of a fight; brawls broke out everyday in Cornerian bars. He was more interested in the patch that the falcon wore on his white leather jacket. It was frayed and faded, yet nobody in the galaxy could have mistaken the meaning of the white fang emblazoned there: it was the mark of a bounty hunter.

The next surprise came when Fox took his eyes off the patch in time to see Wolf approach the hunter and reach for his blaster.

"Boss," said the lizard. "Don't…"

"Let him go, Lombardi," Wolf growled.

The falcon looked up at Wolf, an almost-cocky grin on his face. "Not another step," he warned.

Wolf stopped a meter from his companion and the hunter. He stared at the falcon for what seemed like an eternity but was in reality only seconds. Then he stepped forward.

In one smooth, fluid motion, the bounty hunter swept his leg under Wolf's legs and had a blaster trained on him before his knee hit the ground.

Wolf, now in a reverent-appearing position, slowly looked into the barrel of the hunter's blaster and snarled. "No one does this to Star Wolf."

"Nothing personal, Wolf. It's only business." Lombardi turned to the lizard. "Now, you're coming with me, dead or alive. It's easier to deal with you dead, so don't make me angry."

Fox had never seen Wolf kneel before someone, even if he _had _been physically forced into the position. Sometimes even the galaxy's best could be brought to their knees. Or worse.

Spontaneously, Lombardi pistol-whipped Wolf into unconsciousness and dragged the lizard across the bar toward the door. He flipped a coin to the bartender as he left. "Here. Buy yourself somethin' special. And take care of the hairy one."

Fox shook his head in disbelief, slightly impressed, and watched the bounty hunter leave.

Slippy Toad wiped the grease off of his webbed hands and tossed the grimy rag into a pile with all the others. He turned back to the Firesplash and sighed. This shouldn't be taking so long.

All three Star Fox Firesplash starfighters were lined up in the _Great Fox's_ landing bay. The immense dreadnaught _Great Fox_ herself was docked in a Green Sector bay of the Corneria City Spaceport.

Each Firesplash had varying degrees of damage. Slippy had already patched up Peppy Hare's fighter, which alone had taken more than fifteen hours. Now he was working on Fox's ship, which always saw more action than the other fighters but somehow took less damage. Slippy always appreciated Fox's defensive abilities.

Such abilities were never perfect, however. A char mark the size of Slippy's arm marked one of the Firesplash's four pointed wings, leaving wires dangling and sparks flashing.

He picked up a welding wrench and pulled a helmet over his head.

"How are you doing, Slip?" asked a kind old voice. Peppy Hare walked into the landing bay.

"I'm okay. I finished working on your fighter."

"That's great. But you know what I meant."

Matthew Hound's death had hit them all hard. Slippy flipped the activation switch on the welder. Sparks flew.

"Take it easy, son. I know it's tough."

The blue flame glared on the visor of Slippy's helmet. He didn't want to talk to Peppy or anyone, really, about what had happened back in that canyon. He just wanted to fix things. It helped him vent his feelings.

Peppy made his way back toward the door of the landing bay. He stopped in the doorway and turned toward Slippy again.

"By the way, where did Fox wander off to?"

Slippy turned the welder off and picked up a screwdriver. "He's probably downtown dealing with things."

"Ah." Peppy's long gray ears drooped.

Suddenly alarm klaxons wailed throughout the ship. The hare's ears perked back up in alarm.

A monotonous voice sounded over the intercom system. "Peppy, Slippy," said ROB 64, the ship's robotic Ship Operations Officer. "I've picked up a number of hostile targets headed toward the city on the radar. Please come to the bridge now."

Slippy traded an astonished look with Peppy as Peppy began to run toward the dreadnaught's bridge. The landing bay door slid shut behind him. Slippy glanced down at his screwdriver and the damaged ship beneath it, then he hurled the tool as hard as he could into the wall.

Fox stood over Wolf's limp body on the floor of the bar. It was time to get back to the _Great Fox_, but something was keeping him from leaving. He knew that he hated Wolf, but deep inside him lay a grudging respect for the ace pilot that Wolf O'Donnell was. He knelt beside Wolf, put him over a shoulder, and slowly rose under the weight of his new burden.

"You a friend of his?" asked the bartender.

"I'm more of an acquaintance. I'll take care of him."

The bartender nodded and continued wiping out a glass.

Fox was almost to the door when the lights went out and the building shook. Small chips fell from the ceiling into Fox's fur. He brushed them away with his free hand after he regained his balance.

Scanning the bar for signs of trouble, Fox absorbed the scene before him. Several women were screaming in panic; two leopards were clawing at each other on the far side; the bartender was checking the damage to his ceiling; and through the hole in the ceiling Fox could see an invasion force landing in Corneria City.


	2. Chapter 2: Invasion

Chapter 2: Invasion

_He's going to attack soon. I know he is. We can't let him catch us off guard; the fate of this galaxy rests on the ensuing battle. There are millions of civilians to protect on this planet. Don't fail them._

-Message from General Pepper to his forces in the Cornerian Defense Fleet, transmitted from the _Liberator_, in orbit above Corneria, three weeks before the attack on Corneria.

**Corneria City, Corneria**

At first Fox couldn't believe his eyes. Enemy starfighters and assault robots were pouring from a fleet of warships into Corneria's atmosphere. Apparently Andross had finally decided it was time to take the last planet in the galaxy that was not yet under his control, and he'd brought his whole navy to help him accomplish the goal.

It was definitely time to get back to the _Great Fox_. Fox wasn't sure what he would do with Wolf, but for the time being he'd have to come along for the ride.

Fox walked out of the bar; Wolf's weight on his shoulder made it nearly impossible to run. A clunky Malice-class fighter flew overhead and hammered laser bolts into the bar's roof, causing the building to catch fire. As the structure collapsed, Fox stared wide-eyed at the burning flames and listened to the screams of the citizens he'd just been with.He shook his head to clear away the shock. Being in a daze at a moment like this was certain death. He had to get back to the _Great Fox_ before the city was overrun. If Slippy had repaired his Firesplash, he could do some serious damage to this fleet.

The Cornerian City Spaceport would probably be a primary target. Fox began walking down the street leading to the Green Sector landing bay. Overhead, hundreds of starfighters buzzed _toward_ the enemy fleet. _About time the cavalry showed up._

The Cornerian Defense Fleet was finally responding to the invasion. They would fight back, hard, but Fox wasn't sure if their forces would be enough. They needed people like Fox, Slippy, Peppy, and….No. There was no _and_. Matt was dead and Star Fox was down to three. Well, even three could make a difference.

The _Great Fox's_ bridge was lit by multicolored glows from the radar; a flurry of red, blue, and yellow blips, sometimes accented by white flashes that indicated the destruction of a vessel, filled the screen. The red outnumbered the blue, Slippy observed, although the blue were fighting back valiantly.

"It looks like Andross is focusing mainly on Corneria City," said Peppy. "He must want to cripple our main trade routes. Without resources, we won't have an army."

ROB poked a few buttons on the control console. A globe representing the entire planet of Corneria appeared. Indeed, the concentration of enemy fighters was centered around Corneria City, with only a few small skirmishes being fought in other continents. Several large warships drifted outside of Corneria's gravitational pull, releasing smaller fighters into the atmosphere.

"Negative, Peppy. The enemy focus looks to be on military targets, not economic centers. Two Cornerian Defense Fleet bases have been crippled already. Andross appears to want to render the entire planet defenseless. This is an all-out assault."

"Slippy," said Peppy, his ears standing on end. "Send a coded message to the Lylat Defense Forces posted in Sector Y and the Meteo Asteroid Belt. Tell them to respond immediately."

Slippy nodded grimly and walked over to the communication center. He knew how dire the situation was. If Corneria was overrun, Andross would be the emperor of the entire Lylat System. The Lylat Wars would be over and he would rightfully own everything in the galaxy. After all, warlords who conquered received the territory and everything in it.

"Lylat Defense Force, this is Corneria. Come in, come in, come in." Nervously flexing his fingers, Slippy waited for a response. Silence. "Lylat Defense Force, this is Corneria. We are under attack, repeat under attack. Request immediate assistance from all available units. Over."

Slippy glanced away from the communication screen in time to see Peppy's foot disappear through the doorway.

"Peppy!" Emerging from the bridge, he found Peppy waiting for him in the corridor. "What are you doing?"

"My ship's ready for action, right?"

"She's the only one that's ready, yes."

"Someone's got to stop these machines."

Slippy looked incredulously at the hare. "You're going by yourself?"

"You could come along for the ride, but your Firesplash doesn't look like it'd last long out there."

There was a long pause, broken only by a small quake and the groan of collapsing metal. The spaceport was under attack. After a moment of contemplation Slippy nodded. Star Fox was supposed to stay together, but right now Corneria needed as many pilots as they could get.

"Good luck."

"Don't worry about me. You can help ROB take the _Great Fox_ into orbit once Fox is aboard. I'll see you in a few."

Slippy watched his friend vanish around a corner. He returned to the bridge and stared out the viewport. Somehow he got the feeling he wouldn't see Peppy again. He felt _vulnerable_. This was the first time in his life he'd wished he didn't have any friends to worry about. And he wasn't sure if he could handle another Matthew Hound.

ROB punched a button and the _Great Fox's _landing bay doors slid open. Peppy's fighter whined to life and shot out of Star Fox's command ship. Slippy watched the Firesplash fly into the distance until it became a tiny speck.

His eyes shifted focus and he found himself staring into his own reflection. He looked directly into his own blue eyes, unblinking. _What kind of a friend_ _lets a wingmate fly into battle alone? He could die out there._

Without another thought, Slippy left the bridge and headed for Fox's Arwing.

The burden was getting heavy and Fox was slowing down. He hefted Wolf's weight onto a more comfortable spot on his shoulder. _Wolf had better be grateful when he wakes up…_

The Cornerian Spaceport was only a few blocks away now, but even a few blocks seemed like an eternity. He found himself wishing more than ever that he was safely piloting his Firesplash, racing along at blinding speeds.

People began flowing past Fox. At first he thought they were only moving faster than he was because of his load, but then he realized they were running from something. Something close. He turned back to catch a glimpse of an enemy fighter just before it flew behind a building. The crowd was so thick now that he was forced along with them, backwards. He struggled to keep his footing. The last thing he needed was to be trampled to death.

A woman was screaming something in his direction. He threw a quick glance at her but he couldn't discern what she was trying to say. Something red appeared out of the corner of his eye. Looking back, he realized that it was the building, about to explode. His legs instinctively started moving and he ran for his life; suddenly Wolf didn't seem so heavy anymore.

The explosion resounded in thunderous waves as debris rained down on the mass of fleeing people. Fox's ears rang. He saw people falling under huge chunks of concrete and plastoid. The crowd rushed around the fallen chunks like a current flowing around protruding rocks, never slowing.

Fox risked another look back and realized that the enemy fighter pilot who had blasted the building was purposefully targeting the group of retreating civilians. The fighter rained fire on the crowd. Fox was glad he couldn't hear their screams.

The pursuing fighter was steadily gaining on him. He was trapped. Moving any faster was out of the question; he was part of the crowd. Feeling the reverberations of the starfighter's twice-mach speed, Fox knew it was over. He could feel the heat of the lasers now. He turned around. _Better to face the man who's going to kill you than run away like a coward._

The fighter was almost upon him when it exploded, hit by Cornerian fire. Fox watched the friendly starfighter fly over the crowd and tip its wing in a salute. Fox's eyes widened in surprise at his sudden realization: that ship wasn't just any starfighter. It was a Firesplash. Star Fox was airborne. Fox blew out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and thanked the stars for the overwhelming sense of relief flooding over him.

_That makes three. _Peppy Hare tipped his wing to the civilians he'd just saved and pulled back on the yoke, gaining altitude. Corneria City was being torn apart quickly and ruthlessly. He needed to find the areas of the city that had the highest concentrations of enemies and save as many innocents as he could.

Below him, buildings crumbled, fires burned, and people died. He noticed three shuttles landing in the distance, no doubt carrying sapper machines. It was obvious to him now that Andross had no intention of keeping the city intact. Corneria City would literally fall if resistance wasn't strong enough.

A high-pitched beeping on the Firesplash's console caught Peppy's attention. He'd picked up a bogey on his aft, and not just any enemy; it was a Viper. Vipers were some of the most feared starfighters in Andross' forces. Sleek, agile, and well-armored, their names derived from their ability to rapidly spit lasers in what appeared to be a constant stream of energy. Such an ability was instant death to any mediocre pilot.

The constant fire began. Peppy spun the Firesplash hard to starboard, barely dodging the deadly energy. The Viper followed suit, and once again Peppy was forced to throw his ship into a rapid change of direction; he plunged his ship toward the ground, knowing that his only chance of survival was to lose the Viper in-between buildings.

Darkness crept into his vision as the G's went to his head. Glancing at his radar, he noticed that the Viper hadn't expected his sudden descent and was attempting a quick pursuing turn. For an instant he thought he saw a blue dot closing in on the Viper, but before he could confirm a friendly his head started to spin. He slowly leveled off the Firesplash; he certainly wouldn't survive if he was too dizzy to pilot his ship.

The Viper dropped in on his tail again. Those things were amazingly fast. _Deadly fast._ The constant stream of laser fire began once again. It lasted for all of two seconds. Suddenly the enemy exploded in a cloud of flame and shrapnel.

Peppy glanced down at his radar in astonishment. The blue dot had reappeared, but now….now it was firing at _him_. His ship jerked starboard as a laser seared the Firesplash's aft hull. "Check your fire- we're on the same side!" he yelled into the comm. Abruptly the fire stopped.

"Sorry. I got a little carried away. Are you all right?" came Slippy's voice over the speaker.

"Slippy? What are you doing out here?"

"I figured you'd need a wingmate."

Peppy smiled. "You made the right call, son. Thanks for the save."

"Sorry about the wing. Is anything wrong with your systems?"

Peppy sent his onboard computer into an emergency systems check. A red light appeared on the screen. "Shields are weakened and maneuverability's a bit off. Looks like you hit the G-Diffuser."

"I can escort you to a repair station-"

"We can worry about me later. Right now, there are too many enemies out here that need shot."

The spaceport had collapsed. Pillars, decorative statues, ceiling, glass…everything lay in a dusty heap. Fox had seen the building come down, luckily from a safe distance. The SAP-36 sapper robot had the place torn apart in minutes, or at least the northeast end. Now it had moved on to a different part of the spaceport, slowly making its way around the oval perimeter of the building.

Fox stumbled to the northeast entrance. Wolf's weight was becoming more of a burden with each passing minute. He kept telling himself he was almost there, almost to the _Great Fox_, almost…but the self-encouragement wasn't helping anymore. He was dead tired and about to collapse.

A familiar figure stood outside the entrance, staring at the debris. Fox couldn't remember who the person was at first, but his memory slowly began working again. A blue figure. Birdlike. Armed with a blaster which was still aimed at some sort of lizard. _A bounty hunter_.

"Looks like we've got two of a kind, Lombardi," Fox exhaled, shifting the weight on his shoulder once again.

"Yeah. It's Falco, by the way," said the bounty hunter absentmindedly. He continued to stare at the debris.

Fox's shoulder twitched. The lizard glanced at him and suddenly looked startled when he saw who Fox was carrying. Or was it something else…

"Is there any way inside?"

"The sap brought it down just before I went in." Falco squeezed his eyes shut. "This is horrible."

"Were there-"

"Yes. A dozen of them. People trying to stay safe, to live normal lives. They're still in there."

Fox gently set Wolf on the ground and walked over to a broken chunk of pillar lying in the doorway. He felt a hundred times lighter. "Give me a hand with this."

Falco threw a threatening look at the lizard. "Leon, I'll warn you once. Don't try anything or you die."

Leon nervously nodded in agreement. Falco holstered his blaster and grabbed the piece of pillar. Working together, he and Fox hefted the stone out of the way. A small opening leading into the building could be seen now. An opening with a body in it.

The body was a hound dog, and it wasn't just a body. The hound's head turned toward the newly revealed daylight, and his eyes stared straight into Fox's. "Help me."

Instantly Fox was back on Titania. He heard Matthew Hound's call for assistance. He knew his friend's life was in danger and there was nothing he could do. He saw the eruption of flame coming from the Firesplash…

And his back exploded in pain.

Fox groaned as he leaned back, reflexively reaching for the source of the pain. At first he thought he'd pulled a muscle while lifting the pillar. Then he saw his own gun pointed at him.

"Thanks for the lift, _friend_," Wolf growled.

So _that_ was what the twitch on Fox's shoulder had been. Wolf had returned to consciousness and given Leon some sort of signal.

"Leon and I will be on our way now. We're both armed. You're not. Don't try to stop us."

Falco slowly reached for his blaster and realized that Leon had indeed stolen it. This was no bluff.

"Wait," said Fox. "Help us get this person out of here."

"This is war. People die and they're not worth the effort. The galaxy _needs_ Star Wolf."

For some reason, that comment awakened a startling amount of laughter from Fox. "People _are_ the galaxy!" he laughed as he shook his head.

"Nobody paid us to help," said Wolf. He and Leon slowly backed away, then turned and ran.

Falco let out a growl of discontent. "There goes my money."

"Come on," Fox said, waving Falco toward the hound.

Together, they removed several more large chunks of debris. They tipped the last chunk off of the hound's lower legs and helped him to his feet.

"Can you walk, old-timer?" Falco asked.

"Yes," the hound said meekly. "Thank you both."

Falco looked at Fox. "We need to get off this rock before we become permanent residents."

"Do you have a ship nearby?"

"If it didn't get crushed, yes. There's room enough for both of us."

"What about room for three?" asked Fox, jerking his head toward the hound.

"There's a storage compartment in the belly of the ship. We can get the old man to safety."

Fox nodded. "Want to tag along, sir?" he asked the hound.

"It's Chief. And I'd love to get out of here."

"It's this way," said Falco, crawling into the hole they'd just created to rescue Chief.

The other two followed suit. The passage was very dark, and occasionally Fox felt something sharp and seemingly invisible dig into his palms. After several minutes, they finally came out of the crawlspace and into a large, dark room full of debris. Fox's eyes were adjusted to the darkness by now, and he scanned the new surroundings. Immediately he wished he hadn't.

Bodies were everywhere. Dead bodies, all of them. Limbs protruded from pieces of fallen ceiling all around the room. Fox fixed his gaze in the direction Falco was walking and never looked back. Falco led them to a malfunctioned door; the door's sliding panel was locked halfway up its track. The trio ducked under the door and walked into a landing bay.

Falco's ship sat before them, glinting in the sunlight. It was an Avatar starfighter, and a highly modified one at that. It sported two rear blasters in addition to the customary four attached to the bow. Fox was sure there was much more to this thing than someone would notice at first glance.

Falco lowered the ramp to the storage space and Chief climbed in. Fox climbed into the rear-facing gunner's seat. The canopy lowered over his head as Falco warmed up the systems.

"Everything checks out. She's still in one piece."

Fox gave the thumbs-up as the Avatar lifted from the ground. "Patch me through to omega frequency six."

Falco punched a button. "You're on."

"Star Fox, come in. This is Fox. Repeat, come in."

A brief moment of static was broken by Peppy's voice. "Fox! Are you in the _Great Fox_?"

"Tell ROB to take off. I hitched a ride with somebody else. I'll send you our signal so you can patch it into the radar."

"Copy that. Are you headed our way?"

Fox looked to Falco, who shrugged. "I lost my bounty because of these guys. They'll pay for that."

"You hear that Peppy? We're on our way."


	3. Chapter 3: Saving the General

Chapter 3: Saving the General

_Mercenaries fight, Fox. All their lives. But the important thing to remember is, there's a time to fight for pay and there's a time to fight for what you believe in. The latter times should always outnumber the former. If you don't fight for what you think is right, then what kind of person does that make you?_

-Captain James McCloud to Fox, on the mercenary way of life, 8 years before the Lylat Wars.

**Reggie's Den, in orbit around Corneria**

Fox returned from the makeshift medical ward and joined Falco, Peppy, and Slippy, all sitting in a row of form-chairs in the accommodating central area of Reggie's Den. Chief was receiving medical attention for one of his legs. Fox had made sure the old hound found the doctors aboard the station and then quickly returned to his squad. He glanced at each of them now, assessing their conditions. They were all exhausted, but that was as far as any negative physical implications went.

They'd flown together for five consecutive hours, making a dent in Andross's invasion fleet wherever they could. All in all, they'd suffered only minor damages. Peppy'd had the most trouble; his shields had finally given out in the final hour. The enemy chipped some pieces off of his old Firesplash, but nothing significant was lost.

After the lengthy flight time, however, they all needed to be refueled. Reggie's Den was one of a small number of refueling stations orbiting Corneria, and one of even fewer that hadn't been hit by the enemy yet. So, in the middle of the battle for the last planet to remain outside of Andross's control, Star Fox and Falco Lombardi sat peacefully in Reggie's Den, waiting for their ships to be refueled.

ROB had landed the _Great Fox_ in one of the Den's upper-level hangars just moments ago. The robot was working on Slippy's Firesplash on the toad's orders, while the rest of Star Fox decided to remain in the center of the station. After all, there were form-chairs and free news broadcasts in the waiting lounge.

Falco looked to Fox. "How's the old-timer doin'?

"He's fine, for the most part. Got a fractured bone in his left leg." Fox shook his head incredulously as an amused expression crept across his face. "I just hope she's in one piece, Slip, or you're going to join him."

"I told you, don't worry! I'm not _that _bad of a pilot."

"Well, you did tear apart my G-Diffusor nicely…" Peppy chimed in.

"That was an accident! I'm a good pilot, okay?"

Falco chuckled and threw a thumb in Slippy's direction. "I made sure I was at _least_ a square kilometer away from him the entire time."

Slippy crossed his arms and grunted. His three companions simultaneously issued an uncontrolled burst of laughter.

Peppy slapped Slippy on the back, tears running down his grinning face. "We're just givin' ya a hard time, Slippy. You saved my life out there. No amateur pilot could have done that."

Slippy seemed to brighten a little.

"Speaking of which- Falco, you're certainly no amateur, yourself. Did you go through the Cornerian Flight Academy?"

Slippy slouched like he always did when the attention moved away from him.

"No way, gramps. I learned to fly from the best of the Fang Guild."

Peppy looked taken aback. Obviously he hadn't noticed the white fang patch on Falco's jacket. Fox was impressed, himself.

"I haven't seen that kind of flying outside of Star Fox in a long time," he said.

Falco shrugged. "It's necessary to survive. The Guild makes sure its members are prepared for anything."

"Yeah, only because it turns a profit from its members," said Slippy sarcastically.

"Right frog, but they provide us with our equipment and we still get seventy percent of the profit. Sounds like a good deal to me."

"A good deal until you die because your _Guild_ threw you in danger's way."

Falco didn't appear to be listening anymore. His attention was directed at the nearest telemonitor. A news reporter was narrating over footage of a ravaged platform floating on green water.

"…carnage was caused by a single attacker," the reporter was saying. "This image, captured by a cam on a nearby building, clearly shows a one-man starfighter leaving the enemy oil rig moments before its destruction."

Falco leaned forward in interest as the footage appeared. Sure enough, a starfighter no larger than a Firesplash blasted into space as the platform erupted in flames.

"The attacker's identity remains unknown. However, whoever he is has become an asset to the resistance. Military officials praise the infiltrator's efforts, but they deny the possibility of the unknown agent as belonging to military intelligence. Several other key enemy targets have been destroyed in the past three weeks. In each situation, the attacker remains unknown. Who is this wonder-man…"

Falco diverted his attention to the floor.

Fox turned to the avian. "You looked awful interested in that story, Falco. Friend of yours?"

"My friends are my business," he replied without looking up.

An uneasy moment of silence ensued, masked only by the reporter finishing his story.

"So who was that lizard you were after, anyway?" Fox asked, hoping to break the tension.

"His name is Leon Powalski. He's wanted on three different planets for murder, destruction of property, and for being the cockiest son of a bitch this side of the galaxy. He's gotten away from me twice before, thanks to his new friends."

"You mean Star Wolf?"

"Yeah. I honestly didn't know Leon had joined Star Wolf until they saved his hide back on Fichina."

"We're trying to figure out who the members of their present squadron are, too. Star Wolf has been our main competition in the mercenary squadron business for quite some time."

"If I ever get my hands on him again-" Falco began.

"Look at those things," Slippy interrupted, staring through a rear-facing viewport. The other pilots turned their heads inquiringly.

Three sleek starfighters flew out of one of the Den's rear hangars in perfect formation. The pilots locked into their positions, one in the front, two slightly above and to the rear. In unison, they barrel-rolled in place, keeping their formation tight. And then they were out of sight. They were the definition of agile and fast, the perfect starfighter in a pilot's mind.

"Not bad," said Fox, turning back around. "I wouldn't mind gettin' me one of those."

"Yeah, no kiddin'," Falco breathed in awe.

Slippy looked pleased with himself. "Those are called Arwings. They're a new model of starfighter the military just started manufacturing. Apparently only the best squadrons in the fleet get to use them."

"How are they so fast?" asked Peppy.

"They use some sort of upgraded G-Diffusor. They haven't released the specs yet so I'm a little cloudy on details. They also have superior shields, of course."

"So you couldn't wipe out my shields as quickly if we were flying those?" Peppy asked with an amused smirk.

Before Slippy could think of a retort, an emergency newsflash came onto the telemonitor screen.

The news anchor looked anxious. "We have just received word that General Pepper's flagship, the _Liberator_, is under heavy fire. The enemy has diverted several squadrons to help bring down the ship.

"The _Liberator_ is equipped with excellent defenses, but it can't hold up to such a concentration of enemy firepower as it is receiving right now. General Pepper has personally asked any available starfighters to provide cover for his ship.

"Citizens of Corneria are advised to stay calm. Your general will receive aid momentarily and will be fine. However, I repeat his request: all available starfighters are asked to provide covering fire for the _Liberator_."

Fox raised an eyebrow as he looked at the members of Star Fox.

"This could be an opportunity for some hefty pay," Slippy stated bluntly.

Fox looked distant for a moment, then shook his head. "It's more than that, Slip. If Pepper doesn't receive help, he could be toast. And without an experienced leader like him, the Cornerian Defense Fleet is in trouble."

"Fox is right," Peppy affirmed. "The enemy knows that shooting the general down would throw the defense effort into chaos. He's become their primary target."

"Okay, so we go help him," sad Slippy. "Our ships should be ready to go by now."

"So we're all in favor, then?" asked Fox, looking to each pilot in turn. Peppy and Slippy nodded silently. Falco sat with his arms crossed. "How about you, Falco? Are you in?"

Falco shook his head. "I was in this for personal reasons. I helped you flyboys out earlier because this bastard invasion force caused me to lose my bounty. That's out of my system, and I don't feel like risking everything to help out some general who should be able to defend himself."

"We're a man short, Falco," Fox said in as convincing a manner as he could muster. "And Slippy's right. If we come out of this alive, there's bound to be a healthy tab involved."

Falco looked back at the telemonitor in seeming disinterest.

"It would more than make up for the money you lost when Leon pulled a fast one on us."

The avian sat for a moment longer, staring at the screen. Then with a heavy sigh he stood up. "All right, I'm in. But just for the money. Don't think for a second that I'm goin' all noble here."

Fox rose to his feet, as well. "All right, then. That makes four. Let's get to the general before anyone else can put a dent in his ship."

"And before anyone else can put a dent in our pay," Falco added wryly.

The _Great Fox_ reduced its thruster speed just outside a swarm of enemy fighters, all stinging the _Liberator_ with varying degrees of laser fire. Beneath the dreadnaught's cockpit, the forward hangar-bay hatches slowly slid open and four starfighters flew into the vacuum.

"All fighters, report in," Fox McCloud said into his comm system. The system crackled as his squadmates replied.

"Slippy's airborne. All systems in the green."

"Peppy here. My G-Diffuser's back at full capacity. I'm combat-ready."

"Just try to keep up, lead. Those Solars are still clunky, no matter how many repairs were made."

Falco's response didn't surprise Fox in the least. He smiled. The bounty hunter was very sure of himself and his ship. Hopefully such confidence would be an asset and not the cause of his destruction. There was only one way to find out: combat.

"All right, everyone. Move into Attack Formation IV. You know what that is, Falco?"  
Peppy and Slippy pulled back to flank Fox's port and starboard, respectively. Falco took his position to the rear of Peppy and Slippy, closing the hole their spread-out fighters had created. Star Fox was in Attack Formation IV, a diamond shape, and heading straight for the enemy. Apparently Falco knew his formations.

"That's a lot of red," Peppy said, referring to his radar.

Fox glanced at his own radar. Indeed, no less than fifty-three enemy fighters held the _Liberator _at bay. Such numbers didn't shock him; they were to be expected. However, the lack of blue on the radar screen was a bit of a surprise. If so few friendlies could come to the aid of the most important battleship of the Cornerian fleet, then the Cornerian forces were probably not winning this battle.

"Do we know if reinforcements are on the way?" asked Fox.

Slippy's voice came over the comm. "I sent a distress signal and message to the Lylat Defense Force at the start of the battle. If they'd responded immediately, they would have been here a little over an hour ago. I'm not sure they got the message."

"We'll keep our fingers crossed. Hopefully the general sent out a distress signal, as well. The units stationed in the Meteo asteroid field should have received the message, but you never know. Maybe this same fleet attacked them first."

"I can try sending another signal from here."

"There's no time. The _Liberator_ needs all the help she can get. Like I said, we'll just have to hope reinforcements are coming." Fox didn't like the idea of placing so much at stake on something as elusive as hope, but he knew that even if another distress signal was sent, if the Lylat Defense Force was just receiving the signal they would take hours to reach its source. It was pointless.

"Everybody get ready," Peppy warned as they neared the combat area.

And suddenly they were in the middle of fifty-three angry enemy fighters, all gunning for a few Cornerian starfighters and the warship they were trying to protect. Falco lurched his ship upward and easily shot down a passing enemy.

"There're so many enemies, you can just shoot and you'll hit one," he said as he returned to formation.

"Okay everyone, break off with your wingmate and concentrate on the enemy, one ship at a time. Falco and Slippy, you cover the _Liberator's _engines. Peppy and I will cover the cockpit."

Falco and Slippy broke off and flew toward the warship's aft. Peppy remained behind and to port of Fox as they rushed by the giant bridge on the ship's stern.

Fox quickly scanned the area and contained a sudden sense of shock flowing through him. The enemy fighters, probably some of Andross's best, were unorganized and sloppy. They did not concentrate their efforts on a single, vital part of the ship. Instead, they fired at whatever they found convenient to shoot, most of their lasers being absorbed by the _Liberator's _shield.

Such sloppiness gave Star Fox some extra time to provide cover, but eventually the enemy lasers would eat through the shield and breach the ship's hull.

Fox came around on the nearest enemy's flank. His fingers rested on the firing stud, waiting for the image of the enemy fighter to line up in his targeting reticule. The reticule flashed and Fox pulled the trigger. The enemy fighter erupted in flames. One down, fifty-one to go. Apparently either Falco or Slippy had already added another kill to their roster, as well.

Peppy quickly took out another vulnerable target. This was almost too easy, Fox realized. There had to be some sort of catch.

"I got one!" Slippy declared enthusiastically over the comm.

"Don't brag too much, warts," said Falco. "I let ya have him."

"Cut the chatter," Fox said distractedly. Why in the galaxy would the enemy fleet, the _dominant_ fleet in Lylat, attack the most important ship of the Cornerian Defense Fleet in such an unorganized fashion?

Suddenly eleven more red blips appeared on the edge of his radar. He looked straight ahead through his canopy. Flying toward him were ten heavily armored landing craft and a single starfighter.

"That's a Viper," said Peppy. "He looks different than all the others. He's got green stripes down the sides."

Fox chewed his lower lip in thought. "He could be a commander. Slippy, try to intercept any communication between him and the other fighters."

"I'm on it."

Fox saw Peppy take a quick potshot at an Avatar that was too close for comfort. The ship's port wing blew off in a flash of sparks.

A determined voice crackled over the squadron's comm units. "Caiman here. All forces form up. Execute…ike…pla…" The message trailed off in static.

"That's all I can pick up from here," said Slippy. "He moved out of range. I can pick up the signal again if I move closer-"

"Negative," Fox interrupted. "That would be suicide. I think we picked up enough. Mark one Caiman as our primary target. If we take him out, they're thrown into disarray again."

"Could anyone make out what that last part of the transmission was?" Falco asked.

"It sounded like he told them to execute some sort of order like they'd planned," Peppy said.

"That's what I got out of it," said Fox. "Be ready."

The enemy fighters had pulled back some number of kilometers from the _Liberator_. Now they were advancing again. In formation.

"Here they come," said Slippy nervously.

Fox didn't like the look of this at all. "Star Fox, form up. They're coming in waves."

Slippy and Falco joined the rest of the squad in front of the _Liberator's_ bridge as the first wave of enemy fighters hit. There were five of them, flying side by side. They started pouring concentrated fire at their target. Fox bit back a curse as he realized who their true target was. They weren't aiming for the _Liberator_. They were gunning for Star Fox.

"Break break break!" yelled Fox.

Star Fox peeled off to port and starboard, letting the first wave pass between them.

"Looks like they're trying to pick off the resistance first," said Falco.

"Fox," Peppy said in alarm. "What are those landers up to?"

Looking at his display, Fox saw the ten landing craft lumbering slowly toward the _Liberator's _port side. They couldn't be trying to ram themselves into the side, he thought. That wouldn't make sense. The breached areas would be evacuated and blocked off within a minute. That could only mean-

"Slippy, can you send me the complete blueprints for the _Liberator_?"

"I'm sending you the general specs for that type of ship. The _Liberator_ herself could be slightly different."

"Acknowledged. Receiving specs." Fox looked at the new data on his computer and felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. The _Liberator_ had six landing bay entrances on its portside. "Falco, Slippy- get on those landers _now_. They're going to try to take the ship from the inside."

It made too much sense; Andross wanted the flagship intact, probably to add to his fleet. That's why the enemy fighters hadn't tried to severely damage the dreadnaught before Caiman had shown up. Now the fifty remaining fighters were trying to hold off the only threat left to the landers.

"Second wave approaching," said Peppy. "There are five more in this one. That's a lot for us to handle, Fox."

Fox rolled his Firesplash around and prepared for the coming onslaught. "I know, I know. There are only four of us and sixty of them."

"Sixty-_one_," the hare corrected.

And then the enemy fighters were upon them. Fox flew straight at them, daring them to fire. Fire they did, but the two fighters directly ahead of Fox only sputtered a couple desperate shots before they exploded. The Firesplash's fully-operational shields absorbed the few blasts that actually hit them.

"Wave two down to forty percent," said Peppy, his voice the epitome of calmness. The middle-aged hare had seen plenty of combat in his day, much of that combat with the same unit he flew with now. He was used to overwhelming odds.

"Damn!" yelled Falco over the comm. "One lander in, more approaching."

"You can't get them all," said Fox. "Just get as many as you can. There are thousands of crew members in there ready to pick off the luckier ones."

"Copy, lead."

"Peppy, contact the _Liberator_ and request cover fire before the next wave gets here."

"Copy that, Fox."

There was a brief moment of silence, interrupted only by Slippy's and Falco's mild grunts as they attempted to pick off the majority of the enemy landing craft.

"Wave three approaching," said Peppy.

This time they split the wave down the middle, taking out three more fighters and receiving minimal damage once again. The survivors circled around and headed back to the main concentration of enemy fighters kilometers away, probably to form another wave with other survivors.

"What did they say?" Fox asked once the danger had momentarily passed.

"Their turrets are offline. Apparently a few fighters aimed for something useful before the commander arrived, namely the gun batteries."

_Blast_. It really was just Star Fox versus the rest of the-

"Here comes wave four."

"That was fast."

"I count seven incoming."

Sure enough, seven enemy starfighters flew straight at the two mercenaries. "Take the outsiders."

"Will do."

They took opposite ends of the enemy line. Concentrated lasers screamed toward Peppy. Fox and Peppy each claimed one fighter. The five remaining enemies circled back.

"I'm hit," said Peppy, only the slightest hint of calm in his voice anymore.

"How bad?"

"It's bad. Shields are completely offline again. I've got a small fire on my top starboard wing. She's slow to cool it."

"Peppy, get back to the _Great Fox_. You're too hurt to be out here."

"But I-"

"That's an order."

"Affirmative lead. I'm out."

Peppy's Firesplash broke to starboard and made its way back to the squadron's base of operations.

"How's the lander situation?" Fox asked as he noticed another wave approaching. _These guys are relentless_.

"We've hit six of them, working on the seventh," said Slippy. Fox began evasive maneuvers to avoid fire from the eight incoming fighters. Trying to vape even one of them was now out of the question. "Three others made it inside."

Fox heaved a sigh of relief as he broke past the line of enemies and came out of a desperate roll. "That's a pretty good dead to still-living ratio. Hey, I could use some help over here when you get the chance."

"And he's…toast!" said Falco over the shriek of lasers and rumbling of an explosion. "We're on our way."

Two Firesplashes joined Fox just before the next wave hit, this one containing ten enemies. This was getting ridiculous, Fox thought humorlessly. The waves were near-constant now.

This time, Fox managed to shoot one down. The minor victory came at a great cost, however. His Firesplash shook from a barrage of enemy fire.

"You okay over there, Fox?" asked Falco. Fox thought he actually heard a trace of concern in the bounty hunter's voice.

"I'll be fine. Minor damage to thrusters and shields."

"We can't hold these guys off anymore, Fox," said Slippy.

He'd spoken what Fox knew and feared. There was nothing more Star Fox could do here. The enemy was too organized and their numbers too great. The commander was laying back, letting his subordinates do all the work. He was untouchable, which meant that the enemy would stay organized.

An explosion flashed to port. Fox looked up from his display in time to see a portion of the _Liberator_ burning, the hull breached. Bodies flew into space.

"That came from the inside," said Slippy sadly.

"They must have figured out that they're outnumbered in there. They're probably going to take her out," Falco speculated.

A renewed determination flooded through Fox as he watched the bodies of countless Cornerians floating stiffly through vacuum. "We fight."

"What?" said Falco and Slippy, nearly in unison.

"Prepare for the next wave. The Liberator needs time to get her gun batteries up and running. We'll hold the enemy off until then."

"Fox," said Slippy grimly, "that could take hours. There's a wave of fifteen fighters approaching."

Slippy was right again, of course. Fifteen red dots were moving quickly toward their position. As much as he wanted to aid the _Liberator_, Fox knew his duty was first and foremost to take care of Star Fox.

"We'll take as many of this wave out as we can, then return to the _Great Fox_. Understood?"

"Affirmative," said Slippy.

"Yeah," replied Falco nonchalantly.

Such dedication could rarely be found in this galaxy anymore, Fox knew. These people were willing to give their lives for others. They knew a dead man didn't get paid, and yet they kept on Fox's wing. That was a rare beauty in the face of war: the willingness to sacrifice oneself for others. Before Fox could reflect on that thought any longer, the next wave was upon them. He braced himself for the worst and hoped for the best.

Suddenly a large number of warships came out of hyperspace, right next to the conflict around the _Liberator_. The wave of enemy fighters broke off their attack and headed toward the newly-arrived ships. _The cavalry's here_.

The Lylat Defense Force armada had arrived in all its glory, and immediately opened fire on hostile warships and starfighters alike.

Within minutes, Andross's fleet had taken such a beating that it began to retreat. Enemy starfighters poured out of the Cornerian atmosphere like an upward rain and returned to their respective warships. As soon as most of their forces were gathered, the enemy fleet lumbered a good distance away from the planet and disappeared into hyperspace.

One lone ship remained, a Viper with green stripes. Caiman.

A private transmission came over Fox's comm unit as he headed back to the _Great Fox_: "You fly well, mercenaries. I hope we'll meet again in combat one day." And with that, his small starfighter joined the rest of his fleet in hyperspace.

Fox smiled and nodded. For some indefinable reason, he hoped for the same thing. He opened his frequency to his entire squadron, _Great Fox_ included.

"Great work today, boys. We did our job and Corneria's safe. Looks like the Defense Force got our distress call, after all. But without our help, the _Liberator _would be long gone and the general would be dead. Star Fox saved the day."

Celebratory whoops of joy came over the comm, and for the first time since Matthew Hound's death Star Fox felt whole once again.


	4. Chapter 4: A New Job

Chapter 4: A New Job

_As a mercenary leader, remember one thing: be an opportunist. If an opportunity arises, take it…but only if it's opportune._

-Peppy Hare's first advice to Fox on how to lead Star Fox, aboard the _Great Fox_, 5 years before the Lylat Wars.

**The **_**Liberator**_**, above Corneria**

The office's dark red carpet and silver walls bore a striking resemblance to the apparel of the room's owner. General Pepper stood at his desk, apparently examining the faces of the mercenaries standing before him.

Sitting in relaxed poses, newly polished medals dangling from their necks, the members of Star Fox and Falco Lombardi awaited the general's words.

Wearing the medals they'd received the previous day had been Peppy's idea. The old hare had suggested that they would make a better impression on the general and possibly raise their chances for a higher paycheck.

The team had been promised a handsome sum after the award ceremony. Fox assumed that they'd been summoned to the _Liberator _to accept their reward from the commander-in-chief of Corneria's forces himself, although he didn't understand why they'd been asked to make such a time-consuming trip when the money could be deposited directly into their accounts.

All eyes were on the general.

After jotting something down on a datapad, the aging dog pressed a button on his desk, causing the door behind Star Fox to close, and looked at the mercenaries once again.

"You have done exceptional work, Star Fox," he began. "Corneria hails you as heroes of sorts. You are the reason anyone stands on this flagship right now. And," he added, "I owe you my life. Thank you for your service."

The Star Fox members nodded in appreciation of the general's goodwill gesture. Fox, the agreed-upon spokesman of the squadron, said, "You're welcome, sir. We're just glad we could help."

"Indeed," said Pepper. "Now, let's get down to business."

He held up the datapad for the group to see.

"How does this look to you?"

Fox tried not to look shocked as he glanced at the number. He noticed that Slippy's jaw had dropped. Looking up from the pad, Fox nodded. "That will do, sir."

The military canine set the pad back on his desk. "I thought so." He cleared his throat, a deep, rumbling noise resounding throughout the room. "You may take it, of course. Or you may have more."

Fox shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't understand, General."

General Pepper stepped around his desk and sat on its polished surface. "To be blunt, the Cornerian Army needs more pilots like you in its airborne units. We have too many rookies, fresh out of the academy, as evidenced two days ago during the attack. Our entire response to the assault was sloppy. If we'd had more veterans like you in our forces, our ships could have been airborne several minutes before they actually were." The general took a deep breath. "Therefore, we would love to have you as part of our airborne division."

Peppy looked to Fox, astonished. They made eye contact for just an instant, long enough for Fox to know something had truly shocked the rabbit. "I'm sorry, sir. Star Fox has always been a mercenary unit. We don't belong in the armed forces."

"Actually, quite the contrary, Fox."

Fox turned to Peppy, who'd spoken the words with conviction. "What do you mean?"

"When your father led Star Fox, five years ago, we worked for the Cornerian Army."

"Your father, James McCloud, was a very dedicated mercenary," Pepper rejoined. "He worked for money and for his beloved Corneria, not necessarily in that order. He wanted to serve for both causes. I am making you the same offer today. Defend the Lylat System as Star Fox and we will pay you a much larger sum than this," he said, waving dismissively at the datapad.

Fox didn't know what to think. He only had one burning question in his mind. "Five years ago. That's when my father…disappeared," he said, fighting down a lump in his throat. "Did it happen-" He couldn't speak anymore.

Peppy put a gentle hand on Fox's shoulder. "Yes, son. We were on a military mission to Venom. We'd been dispatched by then-Commander-in-Chief Shepard to investigate mysterious activities in the system. That's where Pigma betrayed us. That's where your father was captured."

Fox had heard the story before, of course, but he'd never known his father's last mission had been one for the air force. Indeed, James McCloud had loved his homeworld. No, more than that. The entire Lylat System. Whether it was the product of some wish to be more like his father or some noble gene passed on to him from his old man, Fox came to a sudden and irreversible decision, the _right_ decision.

"General, may we have a minute?"

"Of course," said the dog, walking behind his desk again.

The members of Star Fox, along with Falco, rose from their seats and huddled in a corner of the office.

"We make this decision as a team," Fox said. "What are your thoughts, Star Fox?"

Peppy spoke up first. "I think we could use a steady-paying job for a while, myself. My old bones are getting tired of all this running around we've been doing, looking for the odd job here and there."

Fox nodded. "That's one 'yes.' Anyone else?"

"I _would _like to study the military-issue starfighters in their hangars," Slippy piped up. "And besides, Peppy's right. We need a steady paycheck."

"There's two," said Fox, turning to the bounty hunter beside him. "How about you, Falco?"

Falco Lombardi looked Fox straight in the eyes for a time, deep in thought. He opened his mouth to speak, abruptly closed it, then slowly opened it again. "I don't work for the military."

"That's fine," said Fox, attempting to bury his disappointment before it emerged.

"But," Falco continued, "I'm a mercenary at heart. As long as I'm with a mercenary unit, I think I'll survive. And the money's definitely a big plus."

"Falco Lombardi, are you saying that you'd like to become an official member of Star Fox?" asked Fox, a bit too ceremoniously for his taste.

"I guess I am, at least for now. If for nothing else than to track down that scumbag Leon. Yeah, I'm in."

"Welcome aboard," said Fox, extending a furry hand. Falco took it and shook firmly. So it was official, then. Star Fox was back to full strength.

The team returned to their spots in front of the general's desk. He raised his eyebrows expectantly, but before Fox could speak Falco tapped him on the shoulder.

The two retreated back to the corner and begin talking silently. The three men not taking part in the lively conversation watched them motion wildly with their hands and grin mischievously. After a minute, they moved back to their spots.

"General," said Fox confidently, "Star Fox accepts your offer to serve in the airborne forces of the Cornerian Army, on the following terms."

Pepper waited patiently, allowing the team to have their say.

"One," Fox continued, counting off on his fingers. "We get paid at least half of that sum per mission." He pointed to the datapad. "Two, we're assigned the more exciting missions. We hate getting bored."

The other members nodded in concurrence.

"And three," Fox said, throwing a quick glance at Falco. "The Cornerian Army supplies each of our members with a military-issue Arwing starfighter."

The three people who hadn't participated in the second corner-conversation looked equally shocked. Luckily, it was General Pepper who recovered from the shock first.

"As the leader of the Cornerian Army, I acknowledge and accept your terms. Star Fox, you are now in the employ of the Cornerian Army. Congratulations."

There were grins, pats on the back, and handshakes all around. Even the general looked pleased.

"Good call on the Arwings, Fox," said Slippy happily.

"Thanks. I figured we'd need more reliable rides if we're going to serve for the airborne forces. That and I really like Arwings," he laughed.

Then, raising his voice to be heard over the ascending volume in the room, Fox simply said, "Star Fox!"

He stuck his hand out in front of him, palm downward. It was soon joined by the hairy gray, slippery green, and feathery blue hands of his companions.

Star Fox was at full capacity and part of the army now. This war was about to get interesting.


End file.
